Making a Home of Pleasure
by TeaCozyElf
Summary: Backstory to The Pleasures of Home in Ron's POV. Father and daughter adult relationship. If this is not something you like then move on to the next story. Rated M for mature.
1. Chapter 1

It's two weeks into the summer break and I'm absolutely enjoying it. Agreeing to manage the Hogsmeade Weasley Wizard Wheezes has been one of my better decisions since retiring from the Auror department. With sales drying up after students leave Hogwarts, George keeps the shop closed and does all WWW business at the Diagon Alley shop. This frees me up for the summer and allows me to stay home with the kids. I get to enjoy my time more with the children and I get to watch them while Hermione works. With her work at Ministry getting busier we both agree that this is a very ideal setup for us.

Today has been a nice, slow Tuesday. Hermione is at the ministry and Hugo is spending the week with his cousins over at Ginny's. Rose had decided to stay home to catch up on her reading. She had not only picked up her mother's smarts and looks but also her habits. "I spend nine months with them in Hogwarts," she'd said, "now I would like to spend some quiet time with my books". She looked so much like her mother when she'd said this that if it wasn't for her red hair I would have thought it was Hermione back in the Burrow many summers ago.

I head to my study and sit down in front of my desk. For many years this desk was covered with files and reports on various Death Eaters, shady types like Mung, and bored Wizards who were mostly harmless. Now it's mostly covered with files and reports on inventory, supply and sales trends, and potential new products. It's amazing how much I have changed from my days in Hogwarts. Back then I wouldn't even bother going through all this paperwork until the very last minute. Now my paperwork is finished days before the deadline (much to the delight of Hermione) and I always come prepared to meetings. Having your first capture released due to 'inadequate paperwork' will do that.

Hermione's insistence that we live in a muggle neighborhood and that we partially live a muggle lifestyle has turned out to be a great idea in the end. Muggles really are very ingenious and many of their gadgets are quite convenient- sometimes ever more so than doing things with magic. Heating food and water in a microwave is really much easier than heating it with magic. Many think heating and cooling spells are trivial but so much could go wrong when done by someone inexperienced or distracted. Another gadget that I have grown to really like is muggle music players like the one Hermione got me for my study. It's amazing how much music muggles have; beats listening to Celestina Warbeck's wailing over and over. The best part is the remote; it's like a wand that controls the player like magic.

With a wave and a press I turn the music player on. A song from a muggle singer starts playing - it's this bird Adele that Hermione started to like back before we were married. I personally think she isn't all that great. She does have this one song that Hermione absolutely loves which seems quite angry - it probably wasn't a coincidence that we had temporarily broken up when she started to like this song.

I focus on the paperwork in front of me. Usually I would find these boring but now it's all quite interesting to me. In my days as an Auror it was the thrill of finding that one detail that would give me the upper hand against my target. Now it's all about getting the better of George. Since I started at WWW he has given me freedom to run the Hogsmeade store and to even come up with my own product ideas. I have yet to outsell any of his products but I am getting close. He's had many years head start in experience but I'm going to beat him this year. With the vision of finally having one over George in my mind I bury myself in my work.

…

It is a few hours later deep in thought that I hear a scream that make my heart race.

"Aaaoooooooooooooowwwwwww!"

Rose! I push my chair back and start to run out of my study. Instantly I have my wand out pointing ahead of me. Years of running from Death Eaters then later on chasing after them have disciplined me into always having it on my person.

"Oooow! Uhwwwww!"

I'm trying to not think the worst. Me and Hermione have placed the best wards we could around the house. We had tested the wards on the shed at the Burrow and it had taken Bill a good part of a weekend to break through. Nobody without Weasley blood or Harry's could apparate or floo in.

I enter the living room scanning with my trained eyes for anything out of sort.

"Rose?"

"Dad!" Rose calls back with a sob from the kitchen.

She's fine, otherwise she would have answered with our family's code word for trouble. I calm down a bit. I run to the kitchen with much less dread in my mind.

"What happened honey? Are you OK?"

"No Dad, it hurts," she answers, again with a sob.

I find her in front of the sink shaking- fumbling with something on her front. On the floor I see a shattered pot in a pool of steaming tea. I reach Rose and turn her around. Her face is flushed, her face scrunch in pained. Her one hand is holding her shirt up while the other are pulling her shorts and knickers down. This is when I notice her clothes are wet and the skin around her torso red and looking tender.

"Blimey!" I exclaim at seeing her burns.

I point my wand at her torso and quickly do a cooling charm. I then lift her up and hurriedly carry her to the bathroom. Once there I sit her on the counter beside the sink.

"C'mon honey let's take your clothes off."

She suddenly pulls back with a look on her face that tells me she doesn't want to. She pulls her clothes that she was just holding away tightly to her body.

"Rose this is no time to argue," I tell her as I accio dittany from the potions cabinet.

"But Dad..." she whines in what is clearly embarrassment.

"Rose I have seen you naked countless times before. Now let's take your clothes off before your burns get worse." I tell her in my father voice.

She looks at me for a second as if she would argue the point but then gives up with a sigh. She lifts up her arms while I pull her shirt off over her head. I wince at what I see- her skin that I can see from the waist of her shorts to just under her bra is very red. I hand her the small bottle of dittany, "Here put some on your skin and spread it around gently. Now how far down did you get the hot tea on you?"

"All the way down my thighs." she silently answers, taking the dittany from me.

"OK, let's take off your shorts and knickers. I'll be gentle, let me know if it hurts."

"OK, Dad."

I unbutton her pants then I hook my fingers on the waist of her shorts and knickers. I slowly pull them down trying to keep them from scraping on her tender skin. She stops applying dittany on herself for a moment and lifts herself up with her hands. I pull her shorts and knickers around her bum then down her thighs. The more I see the more worried I become. The skin below her waist looks much worse than I expected. I shouldn't brought her to the bathroom; I should have removed her clothes in the kitchen and applied dittany sooner. I pull her clothes down past her knees and let them drop to the floor. I do another cooling charm on her skin and I see her face reflect the little bit of relief from the pain.

"Now spread your legs." I tell her as I place my hands on her knees to spread them apart. She instead tightens them together, "Daaad!"

"Rose I don't have the patience to argue. Your burns are worse than I thought. I have to make sure if dittany is enough, if not I'll have to take to St. Mungo's."

"No! Please Dad I don't want to go to St. Mungo's!" she exclaims in a voice more panicked than I expected.

"Then let me take a look."

Reluctantly she lets me spread her knees apart. I see the skin of her inner thighs part from the tight contact they have been in. This causes Rose to breathe in sharply from pain. I spread her thighs as wide as I could. I lean down closer between her legs to inspect the burn. It is worse than I thought but not as bad as it could have been.

"Your burnt pretty badly Rosie but we should be able to fix this with dittany. You're going to be sore and in discomfort for a few weeks. And it's going to itch like hell for a while."

She giggles a little with that last bit. I've tried hard not to curse with the kids around but once in a while I let it slip.

I place both of my palms on her inner thighs, gently feeling the tenderness. I hear her gasp from my touch though I make it seem that I did not notice. I move my hands up her thighs, my eyes leading the way. This is when I first notice the light hair showing just above and a little around her girlhood. I'm taken aback a little. I didn't expect to see that, not yet at least. But then I remember she is no longer a child. She has just finished her first year in Hogwarts and at twelve will be going back for her second year. It was the year that I had first started having confusing thoughts about Hermione. Now she's my wife.

Yet here I am staring at my daughter's girlhood. Looking at her nub that is halfway out of it's cover slightly splitting and opening up her slit. Around it, growing out like new grass in late spring, is a light red fuzz that is barely there yet unmistakably visible once you've seen it.

My head is filled with confused thoughts. My little daughter will always be my little baby. Yet here right in front of me, staring at it in awe and some other feeling I can't quite understand, is proof that she is now becoming a woman. I don't know why but I take my right hand from her thigh and place it above her girlhood and gently run it down red hair until my finger is just touching the tip of her slit.

"Dad!" my daughter whispers. I don't know if I imagined it but I thought I felt her shiver.

I look up at her, "Did I hurt you?", worried that I might have caused more damage to her tender skin.

"No. But it does hurt. Are we going to put dittany on?" she answers, eager for relief from the pain.

"Oh! Uhm, yeah... yes!" My mind is racing. Should I do it? Maybe I should let her apply dittany herself. But then she might not do it correctly. I am a trained professional and have on many occasions applied curing salves and creams to myself and others under much more stressful situations. I decide that I will do it. I can't risk my daughter's well being just because of some discomfort from a confusing feeling I'm having.

"Give me the bottle." She hands me the bottle while I take the moment to look at her abdomen. She seems to have done a fairly good job, not missing a spot. I can see the skin already starting to heal evenly.

"I'm going to need you to lie back and keep your thighs spread OK?" I tell her as I transfigure a towel into a pillow and place it behind her.

"OK" she answers shyly, flushing red with embarrassment in the way that only a true Weasley could.

I unstopper the bottle of dittany then move between her legs. "Now lie back and spread your legs, Honey."


	2. Chapter 2

Rose lays down on the pillow, resting her head on the bathroom mirror. She pulls her knees back spreading them apart. I couldn't stop my myself from staring between her thighs as her slit spreads open exposing her little nub from it's hiding place. I'm reminded of the only other woman I've seen naked: Hermione. Rose is so much like her mother, as beautiful and kind and...

No! I shake the thought from my mind. Looking up at Rose's face I see worry, embarrassment, and confusion.

"Dad is everything OK? It's not... broken is it?" Rose asks in a voice filled with worry.

"No Rosie, every thing's fine. Why did you think that?" I ask her.

"Well, you were staring at it and you had a weird look. I thought you saw something bad." she answers with that quiver of fear in her voice.

"Oh, no honey, every thing's fine. Well not totally fine. We still have to cure your burns."

With that I put a couple of drops dittany on her left thigh. Using my right hand I start to spread liquid on her burnt skin from above her knee up to the base of her thigh. Immediately the damaged skin start to heal, the tender skin getting firmer on my palm. I look up at Rose while I rub her thigh. Her eyes are shut, her hands clasped together on her chest. I notice her suck in air every time my hand reaches closer to her girlhood. I look back down to her thigh. It looks much better so I decide to move to her right thigh. I drop a bit of dittany on the skin and begin to rub it around. Just like with her other thigh I feel her skin instantly heal. Again I look at Rose. Her breathing is steady, eyes shut, hands on her chest. Like before she would either suck in hard or hold her breath when my hand reaches the base of her thigh. I pull my hand back and inspect my work. The skin is fully healed though the redness is still visible. The irritation from the burn will not disappear for another two weeks.

I proceed to apply dittany to the area around her girlhood. Gently I rub the liquid around from her waist and around her crotch. I'm careful not to touch her there. I don't think I'm ready for that yet. Judging from Rose's much increased rate of breathing, neither is she. I keep rubbing the dittany around, longer than when I was working on her thighs. I know I can't avoid it for much longer but I'm no longer sure if I should be touching her there. But then who else is there? Here mother is not here. And if I'm going to take her to St. Mungo's then I should have brought her there from the beginning.

Looking up once more to Rose's face I make the decision. My daughter deserve to be saved the humiliation of having this done by a complete stranger. Besides, she doesn't want to go to St. Mungo's doesn't she? That settles it- I'll do it and make sure it's done right.

I take my hands off her waist. I watch as her breathing visibly get even faster. I have to be extra gentle. I'm doing this to make her feel better. I need to make sure she feels better. To make sure that she feels good. To make sure that it's just as good for her. What, no! I mean she needs to feel good after her burns are healed

Once again I shake my head to try and clear my thoughts. What the hell is wrong with me!

"Dad?" Rose's soft voice breaks me out of my thoughts.

"Y.. yes Honey?" I answered trying hard to keep my voice steady.

"Are you going to do it?"

"Huh?" I dazedly answer.

"You know, put dittany 'there'."

"Oh yeah, that. Yes I am. Now. I'm going to do it now. Tell me if I'm hurting you, OK?"

Hurt her? What the hell do I think I'm about to do?

"I will, Dad. Could we get on with it?" she asks in tone that vividly reminded me of Hermione long ago.

"OK. But I'm going to have to take a look first though. I want to make sure where the burns are so I can properly apply the dittany."

"Oh," she just answers, clearly not expecting this.

"I have to do this Rosie. You understand that right?"

"I do." she says in a tone tells me she wasn't quite sure.

"OK, Honey, here goes." I tell her as a place my left hand on her, just above her slit where red hair is growing. She gives a slight jerk in reaction to my hand.

"Are you OK?" I ask her?

She gives me a shy, unsure smile, "Uhm, yeah. It just tickled a little."

I smile reassuringly at her. "I know. I'm really ticklish down there too."

She laughs at this releasing some of the tension from her body.

Smiling at her one more time, I bend down bringing my face closer to her girlhood. Immediately I'm overcome by a wonderful scent that instantly reminds me of Hermione. Thankfully I was able to clear my head enough that I was able to hold back from instinctively doing what I would usually do when this close to Hermione's womanhood. Careful not to startle her I rotate my left hand so it is now pointing down. I take the middle and pointer finger and place them on top of each lip. I then take my right hand and place it opposite the left, placing pointer and middle finger on each lip. I hear her breathing speed up once again and notice a slight shaking of her knees. I look up to her one more time and see her watching me intently. I can tell she's trying to control her breathing the way her lips form a tight little 'o'.

Deciding to get on with it I look back down to where my hands are. Taking one deep breath I gently move my fingers apart fully revealing her to me. For the first time I, her father, sees what she has shown to none other. I, her father, sees for the first time the glory of a girl other than my wife's. For a few long seconds I stare in awe at the sight in front of me. There a few inches away I see her wonderful piece of flesh that one day a lucky man will claim his and only his forever.

Taking another deep breath I move my mind to the task ahead. I could see the skin all around the lips are red all the way to maybe a centimetre inside her entrance. I close my eyes for a few seconds thinking of what I'm going to have to do. I will have to put a finger inside to apply dittany. I'm going to have to put a finger inside her. I'm going to have to put my finger inside my beautiful daughter. I shouldn't be doing this. Making up my mind I take my hands away and stand up.

"Rose, I think we should have your Mum do this."

"No! Dad please don't tell Mum!" she shouts to my surprise. Instantly my apprehension is replaced by suspicion.

"What do you mean don't tell Mum? Is there something you should tell me? Does this have something to do why you don't want to go to St. Mungo's."

She doesn't answer me but looks down at her clasped hands instead.

"Rose. What happened? How did you drop that teapot?"

She mumbles, "I...ed...agi..to...etup...pot." while she holds back tears.

"Don't make me ask again, Rose. What did you do?"

"I used magic to heat up the teapot." she answers, fear and tears threatening to break out.

"You what? What have we told you about using magic at home? What have we told you about the trace? Do you have any idea how much worse this could have been? And a warming charm! You won't even learn that until third year! What were you thinking! Do you know how much trouble you get into! Merlin, Rose, you know better than that! Wait until your mother hears about this!" I couldn't keep myself from screaming at her. She knows better than this. This is something I expect from Hugo but not from Rose.

"I'm sorry, Dad. Don't be mad please. I didn't mean to make a mess of things. Please, Dad, please, I'm sorry. Don't tell Mum, please. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Dad, please I'm sorry. Please don't tell Mum." Rose pleads through terrified tears, her tightly clasped hands on her lips, her head hung low. She looks so fragile and helpless. Like a baby. My little baby.

I take a long, deep breath to calm myself. I close my eyes and try to clear my thoughts. I've been able to keep my temper from exploding like that. Neither Rose nor Hugo have seen my lose it because I haven't lost it since... since that day I left.

Opening my eyes a focus them on Rose. She's still bent low crying into her hands. Placing my hands on her shoulder I pull her to me.

"I'm sorry for screaming at you, Honey. I didn't mean to do that. I was just... surprised." I run one hand up and down her back, rubbing her gently to calm her down. "Ssshhhhush, Rose. It's OK, I'm not mad. C'mon, it's OK, you don't have to cry." I feel her crying turn to whimpers and sob. I look at the bathroom mirror and I'm taken by the sight I see. I'm standing between my daughter's thighs holding her naked body save for her bra close to mine. For an inexplicable reason I pull my hands to her side to give myself a clear view of her back. My eyes roam from her neck down to her bum on the counter. With her body bent towards mine I can clearly see the crack of her arse. Without thinking my right hand slides from her side down to her hip then lower resting on her bum. My finger slowly moves until it finds it's way into the space between her arse cheeks. I could just feel the hole of her arse with the tip of my finger, feel it's involuntary clenching in reaction to my touch.

We stay like this for a few minutes though to me it feels like hours. My mind is filled with wild, confused thoughts of what I'm doing; of what I should do. In the midst of this internal battle I hear my daughter's voice.

"Dad, are you going to tell Mum?"

Broken out of my reverie I pull my hand away from it's wonderful resting place. I put them on her shoulders and push her gently away from me.

"Tell me first what happened exactly."

"I was making tea to bring to you but I also wanted to try this heating spell I read about. I thought I could do it, it looked really easy. So after putting tea and water in the pot I charmed the pot to heat it. I thought I did it right when I saw steam coming out. But when I tried to carry the teapot I guess I overdid it because the pot burned my hand. I tried to put it back on the table but I couldn't hold on and the pot hit the side and the tea spilled on me." she manages to explain through occasional sobs.

I smile at her. Of course she was heating tea. She was bringing me my afternoon pot just as she does everyday. "It's OK love, I understand. I'm not going to punish you and I'm not going to tell your Mum. But you have to promise me that you will not use magic again until you're allowed to, OK?"

She smiles back at me, "I promise, Dad."

"Good." I pulled her into me. We wrap our arms around each other- hers around my neck, mine around her waist. We stay like this for a few minutes. Though I tried not to, my eyes ended up focused at her bum and that space between her arse cheeks. Closing my eyes and breathing in deeply, I try to clear my thoughts. There is something I need to do and I need to do with a clear mind.

Pulling my daughter away from me I steel myself. "Now that's out of the way let's get back to healing your burns."

We stare into each others' eyes in silence. I tried to read her face but it is amazingly unreadable. After a few uncomfortable minutes she finally responds.

"OK, Dad, do it. I trust you. I love you."

And with a smile she leans back into the pillow and spreads her thighs for me.


	3. Chapter 3

I stare at the bottle in my hand, resisting the urge to stare at the wondrous sight appearing before me. It takes all my willpower not to look between my daughter's spread thighs.

"Dad, I'm ready."

I don't look up. I pass the bottle from one hand to the other a few times.

"Dad?"

I turn my head to look at her. She has an odd look of calm on her face. A calm borne of a child's complete trust in her father. A trust that I do not have in myself.

"Yes. Right." I can't think of anything else to say. I smile at her, glad at the smile she gives me back.

Passing the bottle from one hand to the other one more time, I tip it over her girlhood and place a couple of drops on her skin where the light fuzz or red hair is growing. I see her skin shiver from the cold liquid making contact. I watch as the two drops slowly trickle down then disappear between her folds. I hesitate for half-second before placing my palm right on her girlhood. I look up and see Rose holding her breath as she stares at my where my hand is. Without taking my eyes off her I start to move my hand around her, spreading the liquid that has tracked down her light growth of hair. I watch her face intently as she intensely watches my hand in turn.

I slowly spread the liquid over her for another moment. Without saying anything or taking my eyes off her face I push my middle finger into her slit above her little nub. I watch her eyes grow big as she sucks in air deeply. Each hands on her sides form a fist on the counter. I doubt she knows she had done it the way she was absolutely focused on my hand between her thighs.

I move my finger up and down her slit to spread the liquid that had pooled inside. I wipe the liquid into her inner walls and over here nub. The dittany should be sufficiently covering this area by now but I don't move on. I am entranced by the expressions that are quickly running through Rose's face. I wonder if a million different emotions are racing through her right now as they are through me.

I don't bother to look down as I finally move my fingers lower to spread dittany around her lower lips. I have long since learned with Lavender, and later on mastered with Hermione, the parts of a quim. The fact she was still a virgin after our break-up was a testament to how I felt for Hermione.

I promised myself that I would never look at another, let alone touch another. Yet here I am doing exactly that. But it's not exactly the same thing, isn't it. I am not touching another woman. I am touching my daughter. No! I am healing my daughter. I can't be thinking like this. Definitely not like this.

I am broken out of my thoughts by a sudden jerk. I see my daughter staring at me wide eyed. I was about to ask her what's wrong when I realize what I had unknowingly done. I look down at my hand and see my finger inside her, the tip feeling that most sacred piece of flesh.. I was so deep in thought that I had stopped paying attention to what I was doing and started doing what came naturally.

Sudden panic rises deep inside of me. Merlin, what have I done?

"Did I hurt you?" I ask my daughter in a falsely calm voice.

She doesn't say anything but instead keeps staring at me with wide eyes. I feel my heart beat faster than I've ever felt before. 'Oh god, please, no, no, no, no, no!' I hurriedly take my finger out of my daughter then open her wider with the same fingers to see inside.

'It's there! It's still there. Oh thank god it's still there.'

I have never felt more relief and elation in my life than at this moment. More than after escaping Aragog's children. More than after seeing Harry come out of the Chamber of Secrets with Ginny. More than after realizing Harry was alive when he was "killed" by Voldemort.

Taking one long, deep breath I stand up and cups Rose's cheek with my left hand. "Rose, do you feel any pain?"

I wait and watch as she tries to control her breathing, "Yes. I mean no. I'm fine, Dad. I think the dittany worked." I sigh in relief, my mind once again regaining focus. This is when I notice that my daughter is flushed, a slight tinge of pink visible from her face down to her shoulders and lower to her torso. I see a few drops of sweat that has trickled from the base of her neck down to her breasts to disappear under her bra. The tell tale signs are quite obvious to those that know how to read them. Suddenly a thousand confused thoughts are racing through my mind. I feel an unwanted satisfaction at the knowledge. My mind moves from self-loathing to pride to guilt.

Just then I feel a jolt of sudden pleasure run through me. For the first time I notice the familiar feel of painful arousal. In absolute disbelief I look down to see myself hard and bulging within my pants. To my horror I realize that I have been rubbing on the edge of the counter with my daughter's toes just touching my erection. She had unknowingly given me pleasure by clenching her foot, accidentally scratching my hardened manhood through my trousers with her toenails.

Mortified I instinctively jump back away from her. I fumble with the bottle and stopper, taking a few tries before I successfully get it in. Without saying anything I lean between my daughter's thighs and check her burns. Not wanting to touch her again I tell her to open herself to me.

"Uhm, Rose, I need you to take your hands and pull yourself open. I mean spread it a bit so I can look to make sure everything healed properly." I manage to stammer out, my confidence almost at the breaking point.

She gives me a questioning stare that plainly shows she can't believe I just asked her to do that.

"Just do it Rose so we can get this done."

Wordlessly she takes each hand and places her fingers on each side. The moment she pulls herself open to me I realize the grave miscalculation I've made. If the sight of my daughter laying on the bathroom counter with thighs splayed out had my heart racing fast, the sight of my daughter laying on the bathroom counter with thighs splayed out and both hands spreading herself for me had my heart stopped beating and my throat constricted stopping my breathing. I am lightheaded from the beautiful sight before me. I never thought I would see a more beautiful sight than Hermione exposing herself to me for the first time.

Using whatever self-control I had left I move away from Rose. I open one of the cabinets and take out a jar containing anti-itch cream.

I turn to Rose and hand her the jar, "Here spread this over the burns. You'll need to apply that cream again every night before you go to sleep and every morning after you wake up. You don't need to use a lot. Just a very thin film is enough. Got it?"

"Yes, Dad." she answers with a nod.

Not being able to help myself my eyes roam down her body, resting once again between her thighs. There without fingers holding her lips open I get a peek of her little nub once again nestled between puffed lips. 'Maybe I should show her how to apply the cream, just to make sure she does it right.'

'NO!'

With the last shred of self-control and rational thought I hurry out of the bathroom, closing the door behind me.


	4. Chapter 4

I watch the flames shrink back to normal after Hermione disappears from my sight. She left early this morning and most probably would not be back until late tonight. She and her team have been working long hours the past month putting together the Controlled Replenishment of Allowed Potions bill that will enable wizards with lycanthropy and vampirism to replenish their supply of counter-symptom potions for free. Today will be an especially long one as they finalize preparations for tomorrow's presentation, debate, and ultimately, vote in the Wizengamot. I have no doubt that she- through determination, intelligence, and sheer force of will- will be able to convince the shriveled-old-geezers in the court to pass the bill. If those don't work there's always the lesson we learned from Dad and Percy on working in the Ministry: the Wizengamot will pass anything if there is a tangible benefit to them or their families. Well, if there's anything of tangible benefit to the Wizengamot and the Ministry, it's being able to keep werewolves and vampires under restraint.

I smile at my pride with Hermione. She really is amazing. How could one woman be so smart and be so beautiful at once is beyond me. Yet she's not only that- she's also kind and thoughtful. But most of all she has the libido worthy of the Weasley name- for which I am eternally grateful for. And though I was absolutely against it (I thought it unnatural to mess with the body like that. I still do.) I am thankful that Hermione decided to have her tubes tied or we'd have twenty little redheads by now. At least.

And just like that my smile is replaced by a frown. As proud as I am of her dedication to her work I cannot help but be annoyed. It's been three weeks since we've have proper sex. Three long weeks. Yes she had wanked me a few times with a promise of two days worth of hot, sweaty sex. But screaming out how amazing her fingers feel around my cock while I cum is not quite the same after almost fifteen years of marriage.

I look out the window and watch the rain drizzle down- another wet gloomy day, no different to how I feel inside the house. With a sigh I turn away from the fireplace and walk towards the kitchen. The cup of tea I've been carrying around all morning has grown cold. Stopping at the table, I feel the teapot to check if it is still hot. It is barely warm to the touch. I pull my wand out and perform a heating charm. As I flourish my wand I stop mid-wave at the memory of two days ago. I am overwhelmed once again by confused emotions and conflicted thoughts.

I have been struggling with myself over the memory of my beautiful daughter naked and spread out on the bathroom counter. I close my eyes as my mind is filled with images of her wondrous, untouched girlhood. The feel of my fingers on her slick outer folds and warm inner walls. I feel my cock grow as I remember her breathing hitch and her skin blush with pleasure.

I open my eyes and stare at the teapot that started it all. I watch the layer of leaves settled at the bottom of my cup while I fall deep in thought. 'I wonder if she thinks about what happened?' I have been watching her intently for signs that she does but haven't seen anything. 'Did she really enjoy it like I thought I saw? Did she come? I don't think so, I would have been able to tell. But if she did, would she like to feel it again?'

Turning my head I look at the clock hanging on a wall overlooking the table. It's just about seven. She should be waking up soon if she hadn't already. 'Maybe I should check up her, see if she's ok.' I set my cup down on the table then walk towards the stairs. I stop at the base of the stairway. 'Should I go to her room? I haven't been in there since she left for her first year of Hogwarts. But so what, I am her father. It's a perfectly normal thing to do, especially since she was hurt. I just want to check on her. See if she's ok. Make sure she's properly applying the anti-itch cream. Yes! That's it, I need to check if she's applying the cream properly.'

I smile as I think, 'Maybe she'll even let me put it on.' A shiver runs up my spine at the thought.

I start up the stairs slowly. Halfway up I realize that I'm moving stealthily. I look down and see my body in a stance I haven't been in for three years. And yet my muscles move in that familiar motion of a stalker ready to pounce on its prey. Pausing for a second I contemplate at how barmy I'm acting. Shaking my head, I straighten up and walk casually the rest of the way up. And yet I keep my steps light and soft.

I reach the top of the stairs and see her closed door. Second door down the hall after the bathroom to the left, first on the right before Hermione and mine's. After a few steps I reach the bathroom door. She's awake. The door was closed when I went down with Hermione earlier. She probably was just in here for the cream. At the thought my heartbeat gets stronger and faster. I feel like my Adam's apple is getting larger inside my throat.

Silently I approach her door, my eyes focused on the doorknob as I get closer and closer. I reach out my hand and grab the knob the moment I was close enough. Before I get the chance to open it I hear a sound that I was not expecting come from inside her room.

"... auuuuuuuuuuhhhhhh..."

I freeze in place, my highly trained muscles automatically stiffen in response to the sound. My senses instinctively heighten to every single sensation. I strain to hear the sound again hoping to confirm what I thought I just heard.

After a few very long seconds it comes again. "... ah... hah...hahh..."

I choke on my Adam's apple. It's real, I did hear it. Immediately my mind goes into overdrive. In my mind's eye I imagine my sweet, lovely, little baby on her bed; hand between legs that are stiffly forming a V, both feet pointing straight out from ankle to toes.

I pull my wand out and accio my Auror's extendable ear that George developed under consultation with me and Harry. Deftly catching the flying ear, I place the listening end into my ear and the hearing end through the gap under the door. Getting up I move slightly to the left then lean forward, bracing both hands on the wall.

As I watch the ear slowly crawl its way into Rose's room, I hear the sounds from inside grow louder in my ear. Clearly coming through the extendable ear is my young daughter's moans. Not of pain like before, but of pleasure. Pure, unmistakeable pleasure.

"... aauuuuunnnnnnnngh"

I instantly get hard at hearing such unbridled exclamation of pleasure from my daughter. With it follows the shame and self-loathing that have been battling the growing sexual desire and need. One hand instinctively reach inside my pyjama-bottoms to right my cock that have hardened in a painfully uncomfortable angle. But after that was done, instead of pulling my hand out I softly grip my fully hardened cock. In the loose space of my pyjama's crotch I slowly rub myself as I lose myself in my daughter's sighs and moans of pleasure. With eyes closed I imagine Rose wantonly spread on her bed- body writhing in overwhelming pleasure, fingers slicked wet with a mixture of anti-itch cream and her own sweet juices- waiting for me on the side of the door. It is all I could do to not barge through the door and show her how much more pleasurable it could be.

Instead I rub myself in time with her moans, imaging that it's my fingers rubbing her wet, swollen pussy. I watch in my mind's eye as my fingers rub and roll her beautiful nub, slide up and down between her slick folds, move in and out of her warm virgin entrance.

Slowly but surely I hear her moans get faster and her breathing louder. I take my free hand and hurriedly push my pyjama-bottoms down to my knees. Gripping my cock tighter I wank faster to catch up with Rose. I want to come when she does. I want to hear her release when I do.

"uh.."

"uuunghh..."

"hah!.. uh... huh... uhhh... "

"haaooooooohhh..."

"DAD?"

To my horror I realize too late that the last moan I heard was my own. In complete panic I fumble for my wand in my pyjama pocket. With a quick wave I wordlessly cast muffliato between me and Rose's room.

"Dad? Are you there?"

With the dread of a man about to receive the kiss from a Dementor I hastily pull my bottoms up and run downstairs to my study. Locking the door behind me I drop to the floor. As I put my head into my hands I ponder what the hell is happening to me.


	5. Chapter 5

I've been staring at the untouched paperwork covering my desk for the past two hours. Things have been, to put it mildly, bizarre since this morning's 'incident'. Rose hadn't come out of her room until noon for lunch. I watched her intently for any signs that she suspected me of spying on her but she acted normally, like nothing happened. I know that she knows I was outside her room even though she is not showing it. We're the only people in the house and even if we weren't she would have recognized my voice. Which is my I am bewildered by her nonchalance. If it was Hugo she caught spying on her there would be screaming and shouting going on. Hugo sometimes would intentionally invade her space just to get her mad. Of course she always falls for it, he seems to know just how to push her button. Reminds of Ginny when we were kids.

She knows. Which scares the living shite out of me. What does she think? Did she know the meaning of the sound she heard? If she does know then what does she think of me? And what has she thought of since then? Has she realized that I was wanking to her wanking? Oh god I'm such a fucked up mess. She must be disgusted with me! But what if she isn't? What if she knows I was wanking to her and she doesn't care? Maybe that's why she didn't say anything about it. I mean she just acted normally and had a conversation with me like usual during lunch. But then why else has she stayed in her room all day. What is she thinking now? Is she thinking about this morning? Is she replaying it in her head? Or maybe she'd forgotten about it. But why stay in her room? Is she... maybe she's... if she is then I'd be able to hear it again from her door wouldn't I? I mean she moaned pretty loud. Oh I'd love to see her face when she's moaning like that. If only I could make her moan like... Aaarrrgh! What the fuck is wrong with me! What am I thinking? I am a totally fucked up father!

I drop my face into my hands for the thousandth time today. 'Why is this happening to me? Why my daughter? Why does she have such an effect on me?'

"Dad? Is something wrong?"

I look up with a start at the door. "Huh?" is all I am able to say, not really hearing what she said.

"I asked if you're OK. You look sick, and you had your face covered with your hands," she answers.

It takes a moment for my mind to register what she said. "I'm fine," I tell her as I notice the tray with teapot and cup that she was carrying. Was it already that late in the afternoon? I look at the clock on my desk. I have been so preoccupied with my thoughts that I lost track of the time.

Looking back at Rose I marvel at her ability to keep up with her daily schedule despite of everything that has happened between us. I smile at her and wave her over, "I'm fine Rose. Come and put that tray down." She returns my smile and places the tray on to my desk. "Thank you," I tell her as I motion for her to come closer. When she gets to me I wrap my arms around her and give her a hug. She wraps her arms around my neck and hugs me back. I rub her upper back once then pull back from our hug, "Thank you, Rose, I really appreciate you doing this for me every day." We both smile as we look in each others' eyes.

"You're welcome, Dad. I like bringing you tea every day."

I pull her to me and kiss her on the cheek. As I pull back I notice that she's blushing. 'Why is she blushing? Has she always had this reaction when I kiss her?' Not only is she blushing but she's avoiding my eyes. 'But why? It's just a little kiss, one like many I have given her before.'

"Dad, can I ask you something?" Rose asks me, this time looking at her feet.

Instantly dread fills my chest. I try to keep my breathing even and my face expressionless. Kinda hard to do when my heart is beating a million times a minute. I look her straight in the eyes, "Ya, sure honey. What it is?"

She looks at me and I notice the uncertainty in her eyes. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, doing a very subtle shuffle. Twice she starts to say something but then changes her mind. Finally, with a deep breath, she asks the question I've been dreading all day, "Dad, were you outside my room this morning?" Her face is flaming red now, her breathing seemingly frozen in anticipation of my answer.

I stare at her while I decide what to answer. I could easily lie, of course, but she is not stupid and will know I'm lying. Is she testing me? Is this what this is? Regardless, I will just tell her the truth. She at least deserves that. And if she doesn't like the truth, well I'll cross that bridge when I get there.

"Yes," I tell her, "I was."

"Oh. Uhm, ya, I thought that was you." Again she turns away.

We both don't say anything for a few minutes, both deep in our own thoughts of what we had each said.

Rose breaks the uncomfortable silence first.

"Did you... did you notice anything... I mean did you hear anything. You know, while you were outside my room?" She is absolutely red know. Then it all makes sense to me. She's not concerned about what she heard. She's concerned about what I heard. She probably doesn't even realize that what she heard is something she should be much more concerned with.

With this revelation my mind once again start to race. This is a very delicate situation- for her and for me. 'Should I let this conversation continue or should I end it now?' I look at her again, not just her face, but her whole body. She is definitely changing. Soon my little girl would be gone to be replaced by a young woman. Along with the changes come the confusion of adolescence that accompany it. Is that why she's here? Because she doesn't know what's happening to her. Surely she has touched herself before? Or was that the first time? And did she learn that from me? Did I accidentally teach her the pleasures of one's body? Or maybe she had learned it from somebody else and had been enjoying herself for a while now? Maybe one of her cousins? Why not, me and Ginny learned from each other. It may have only been a couple of fumbling explorations but we both had our first orgasms from each other.

Deciding to take a chance again I tell her the truth, "Yes, Rosie, I heard something. Actually, I should say I heard you."

At once her face shows pure shock and horror mixed with embarrassment. Her eyes start to water and she was a half-second from crying. Immediately I grab her by the shoulders and pull her into my embrace to console her.

"I wasn't doing anything Dad. I swear. I was just putting the cream on my skin like you told me to."

I feel her arms wrap around my waist. My cock instantly hardens as memories of a few days ago with her naked in my arms in the bathroom flood my mind. An idea forms in my mind. Maybe it might work. I hope it works.

"I understand Rosie, I believe you. That's why I was there, I wanted to check up on you to make sure that you're doing it right. When I heard you I didn't want to bother you. But still, I want to know if you're doing what you need to do."

I gently pull away to look at her face, "Why don't I help you next time. I could show you how to apply the cream, make sure that you know where and how to put it."

She stares at me quietly, intently. After a few minutes of silence she finally nods her head.

"So is that a yes?" I ask her.

"U huh."

"Tonight then. You'll let me know?"

"I will."

I can't help the smile that spreads across my face. My hard cock gets even harder from excitement. Feeling brave, and stupidly not thinking, I scoot forward on my chair and again pull rose into me. This time though I put my right hand on her bum and push her crotch into mine as I push my hardness into her. An unmistakable gasp escapes her but she does not object. Instead she wraps her arms around me tighter and buries her face into my neck.

It takes all my strength not to lift her onto my desk and take her right then and there. All pretense I have of fatherly affection is gone from my mind. I will have Rose if she will give herself to me. Tonight I will begin to convince her of what we could have together.

Reluctantly I pull away from her. I feel her arms release my waist from her embrace. I smile at her and she smiles back. She is so beautiful.

"So, what do you want for dinner tonight?" I want to make tonight special and I plan to start it with a nice dinner. "We'll have whatever you want."

Her face brightens instantly. "Anything?" she asks.

"Anything."

"I want spaghetti with cream sauce and roasted chicken! And treacle tart and vanilla ice cream for pudding!" she exclaims with a hopeful look in her face.

"Sure!" I answer her.

She responds with a wide toothy smile that never fails to brighten my day, "YES!"

With that she turns around and walks out of my study with a renewed spring in her step. As she walks away my eyes fall on her arse. I can't help but notice the tight fit of her shorts and how it accentuates her shapely bum. Soon, I tell myself. Soon.


End file.
